A Mysterious Governess for the Reluctant Earl: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Ayles, Abby

  It was yet another night of him standing outside the door. Though this time she was woken by the sound of him trying the knob.

  She couldn’t believe that he was now escalating to getting in her room. Hannah knew that Grannie had been right. He was loving the power he held over her more than anything else.

  Just when she thought she could cope with his behavior he would always up his level to scare her all the more.

  The following day was Saturday and she was free to do what she liked while the girls spent the day with Abigail.

  For the last several months this meant being confined to her room for the duration of the day with the door securely locked.

  She was determined not to let her fear hinder her life any more however. So instead of staying to her room, she decided to go to the library and borrow a book to read outside in the garden.

  The days were starting to grow progressively chillier and she rather hoped to get some time outside in fresh air before the winter confined her to the indoors for the rest of the year.

  She had taken her time looking over the shelves of books. Though her heart was racing and she jumped twice at the sound of footsteps and a door shutting, she refused to let her fear chase her away.

  She had as much right to walk around Brighton Abby as Mr. Poole did and she wouldn’t let him stop her any more.

  Finally Hannah selected a book she had yet to read and which she thought looked rather interesting. After signing her name to the borrowing book left out for the servants’ use, she made her way out of the library rather triumphant that she had kept her head held high and fears at bay.

  She had only taken maybe three steps outside the library door when she heard the district sound of heavy quick steps on the wood floor behind her.

  Hannah’s fears froze her to the spot as she listened. It was decidedly the sound of male footsteps and at a determined pace. There was only one logical reason in Hannah’s mind as to why a household member would be doing such a thing. He was clearly trying to catch up and perhaps overtake someone.

  She knew this was her moment. This was when she was to stand her ground. She looked around her quickly, hoping for some kind of help. To her left was a small alcove reading window.

  She remembered Grannie’s advice about having the element of surprise on her side. She slipped behind the thick curtains of the alcove.

  Leaning up against one of its walls she could just barely make out a sliver of the walkway between the curtain and stone wall. She would wait until the brute was on her and then she wouldn’t hesitate to fight to keep her virtue.

  She gripped the book so tightly her knuckles showed white and her breath caught in her throat. In the silence of the hallway she could hear her heart beating in her ear just as fast as the footsteps came towards her.

  Finally she saw the pair of boots before her. With every ounce of courage and strength she possessed she tensed every muscle in her body.

  Just as the shoes came to her hiding spot she threw back the curtains and chucked the book with all her might at the rake.

  “I will not let you frighten me any longer!” she shouted as she threw the object with all her might.

  Her aim was a little off and instead of hitting the assailant on the head it struck his shoulder. He spun around in surprise at the attack, arms reaching up to instinctively cover himself.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing!” the Earl of Grimshaw’s deep voice boomed as he turned on his attacker.

  Instantly Hannah froze to the spot.

  “I’m so sorry, Lord Grimshaw. I didn’t think it was…I had no idea you were…”

  Grimshaw calmed, but only slightly when he saw that his assailant was nothing more than a woman behind curtains.

  “Why on earth would you hide behind my curtains and throw a book at me?” he demanded.

  “You see…” Hannah started and faltered.

  She was shaking all over. It might have been the surge of fear combined with the adrenaline of the moment. Perhaps it was the new shocking revelation that she not only attacked the wrong man, but her employer to boot.

  Nonetheless she could feel the world spinning around her. She reached back and let her hands grope the cold stone wall to steady her.

  The last memory she had before the world went black was the feel of the icy rock slipping from her fingers.

  To say Sebastian Blackburn was startled when Miss Jacobson hurled a book at him from behind an alcove was a vast understatement.

  Even still, that couldn’t compare to watching the woman falter and fall before him. It was as if the whole world slowed down as she paled to a white sheet.

  He watched her stammer, lean back to reach the wall and slowly lose all feeling in her legs. He didn’t have to think, only act.

  Reaching, he wrapped her in his arms, sacrificing his own body in the motion. He hit the floor hard but luckily he cradled her from the blow.

  “Miss Jacobson, Miss Jacobson,” he said, endeavoring to shake the limp body he held in his arms. “Hannah! Hannah, wake up!”

  She moaned for just a moment though her eyes remained closed. Nonetheless Grimshaw breathed a sigh of relief. She had merely fainted.

  He stood cradling her in his capable arms in one motion. She let her head rest on his chest as he held her close to him.

  “You’ll be alright,” he cooed though he wasn’t sure she could hear.

  In fact, he rather thought he was telling himself more than her. He was too familiar with the sight of a woman weakened to the core.

  Taking long heavy steps he marched into the library, the closest room, and laid her body down on a sofa.

  She still lay motionless and limp. She was cool to the touch at least, though she looked pale still and a bit thinner if he was being honest with himself.

  Gently he removed her cap and undid the pins in her hair. With her still not awake he hesitated at the next part.

  He knew from experience with his wife. In the beginning she would still choose to be fully dressed in corset and all. When a coughing spell came on it was too much for her to breathe and she would often faint. Often he would loosen her stays to help her breathe easier when she came to.

  He couldn’t bring himself to do so now, though. Instead he brushed aside a strand that had fallen and waited patiently for Miss Jacobson to open her eyes.

  It was several minutes before that happened. He was pacing the room when he caught the sight of her eyes fluttering open.

  Immediately he came to her side and put a gentle arm on her shoulder to prevent her from getting up.

  “Stay still a bit longer,” he urged her.

  She relaxed back onto the couch and satisfied that she wouldn’t move, Grimshaw walked over to a decanter and poured a good dram of brandy for the both of them. He drank his and then brought the glass over to Miss Jacobson.

  “Here, it will give you back some strength.”

  “I can’t bear the stuff,” she said in no more than a weak whisper.

  He smiled down at her tenacity. Even in such a weakened state she still had the wit about her to fight him on every little thing.

  “Have you ever fainted before?” he asked, still standing over her with the glass.

  She shook her head no.

  “Well then you don’t know how much of a toll it will take on your body. I have seen it many times. Take the glass, even just a sip will do you good.”

  She took the glass reluctantly and took a minute sip, squeezing her eyes shut as it went down.

  Weakly she raised the glass back to him to take. He pursed his lips, not satisfied with her feeble attempt, but took the glass anyway and set it on a table.

  Grimshaw hesitated for just a moment before he came to sit on the sofa next to her stretched out body. He brushed her hair gently and let his fingers move down her cheek.

  She looked up at him with those big blue eyes that seemed the size of the moon. He had such a deep desire in this moment to hold her to him, to keep her
safe, and to comfort away whatever was troubling in those deep blue pools.

  “Would you like to tell me now why you attacked me?” he asked with a humorous smile to his lips.

  He watched the flood of realization come over her and she stiffened and sat up just a bit.

  “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to,” Miss Jacobson stammered.

  “Oh you certainly meant to,” Grimshaw said with a gruff laugh, “but you did seem pretty surprised at your target.”

  “I was frightened, is all. I thought someone was following me and…and I guess instinct just kicked in.”

  “Instincts kicked in?” Grimshaw repeated with a skeptical brow. “I don’t take you for the fighting type, Miss Jacobson. Plus, who could you possibly think would harm you in Brighton Abby?”

  The second of his questions puzzled him the most. She had the look of a crazed woman driven to a last resort. What were the words she had yelled?

  “You said, I will not let you frighten me anymore. Who is frightening you?” Grimshaw asked, more serious now.

  He didn’t like the feeling of knowing that Hannah Jacobson was tormented by someone.

  “No one,” she responded a little too quickly.

  Grimshaw pursed his lips and pinched his brows together. She was clearly lying to him.

  “Honest. I am just a silly girl, is all. I thought I heard noises. A ghost,” she said suddenly as if the idea had just occurred to her. “I thought it was a ghost and I was frightened.”

  “And you supposed throwing a book at a spirit would drive it away?” Grimshaw said, not believing her for one second.

  “It was silly, I know. I suppose I just panicked. I am very sorry for that.”

  “Hannah,” Grimshaw said softly, liking the feel of her name on his lips, “please, if someone is frightening you, I need to know.”

  “No one,” she said, looking at the floor.

  “Have you not been well? You look like a skeleton compared to the last time I saw you,” Grimshaw asked.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Miss Jacobson swung her legs around and put her feet on the floor. Grimshaw stood and helped her to her feet. She wavered for just a moment and leaned into him but then caught her own balance again.

  “I assure you,” she said with more determination, “that I am quite fine now.”

  He didn’t like that she was lying to him. There was nothing he could do for it. There was no way that he would press her in such a delicate state. He thought back to why he had left in the first place.

  Perhaps she had some kind of a lover’s quarrel and that was what had gotten her so upset. He was filled with the pangs of jealousy all over again.

  He had worked so hard to remove Miss Jacobson from his mind these last months that he was away, and within an instant she had quite literally fallen back into his arms, and into his heart. Grimshaw despised himself for relapsing so easily.

  However, he was still a gentleman and he would not let Hannah Jacobson out of his sight until he was sure she was well enough on her own.

  He took her still weak arm and interlaced it into his.

  “I will walk you to your room where you can rest. If you would like I can have your supper brought up to you tonight.”

  She hesitated for a moment and Grimshaw wondered if she would argue with him on this fact too. She still didn’t have a completely clear head however, so she succumbed to his suggestion thankfully.

  Together they walked through the halls at a slow pace until he was able to deposit her safely into her room. He immediately sent for Mary to have her attend to any and all of Miss Jacobson’s needs for the night.

  As much as he despised himself for it, he would not shirk his duties to care for the members of his household, even when his heart bled for them and theirs for another.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lord Grimshaw couldn’t shake the memory of Miss Jacobson in such a state from his mind. Unable to clear his mind, he set to picking up the work again in the west wing.

  While he was away to town the roof was completed by his hired hands and the interior had begun to take shape. He didn’t like that he had missed so much of it during his time in London but it was a necessity to get the roof on before winter storms came and destroyed much of the progress they had made.

  Grimshaw had only meant to walk around the wing and assess the work, but within no time he found himself hard at work. It was a job that took full concentration and for that he was glad. With his mind on the job before him there was no time left to let it wander or try to understand the complexities that seemed to be Miss Hannah Jacobson.

  He was so lost in his work, in fact, that he lost all track of time. It wasn’t until Mrs. Brennon stood before him, dinner tray in hand, that he realized how late he had stayed in the area.

  “Have I missed dinner?” Grimshaw asked the housekeeper in surprise.

  “You’ve missed dinner and many more hours past that.”

  He reached into his pocket and looked at the time. He was astounded. It was nearly midnight.

  “I finally gave up waiting for you to finish working out whatever it is troubling you and brought you a tray so that I might retire.”

  “Mrs. Brennon, forgive me for keeping you up so late. You go far above and beyond your duties. I can assure you, however, that nothing is troubling me. I simply lost track of time.”

  She set the silver tray down on the dusty floorboard still untreated and gave him a skeptical look.

  “I suppose you could continue to bang around in here through the night instead of talking about what’s bothering you,” she said, crossing her hands and surveying that portion of the wing. “It would certainly hasten the process. Though I fear it would not give you the relief of conscience that you are searching for.”

  “I am not entirely sure what relief you mean,” Grimshaw responded.

  “I would guess it has something to do with Miss Jacobson. I would also wager your feelings for her are why you ran away all these months.”

  “I didn’t run,” he defended.

  Mrs Brennon pursed her lips and raised a brow in disbelief. He deflated, knowing she had seen right through him.

  “I did, but not for the reason you are insinuating. She frustrates me so. I can’t understand why it is so difficult to find a governess for the girls that would just stick to her job.”

  “Whatever do you mean? Miss Jacobson has been very skilled and diligent at her work.”

  “I am sure that is true, but she also has other motives. Just as Miss Watts did,” Grimshaw countered.

  “Just because one had them does not mean all do,” Mrs. Brennon stated exasperatedly.

  “I saw her scheming with my own eyes.”

  “I am not sure what you think you saw but I can assure you that Miss Jacobson has no other motives that resemble any of Miss Watts’. There is something inside her…”

  Mrs. Brennon trailed off while she thought of the words.

  “Something inside her that I have seen is broken,” Mrs. Brennon finally finished. “There is no other way to explain the actions I have observed.”

  “What do you mean?” Grimshaw said, surprised by her words.

  “Well for a start there is only so many reasons that a beautiful young girl like that would feel the need to cover every inch of her body in plain and homely clothing.”

  Grimshaw thought over these words, trying to find his housekeeper’s conclusion. When he took too long she spelled it out for him.

  “Obviously someone has hurt her. She covers herself up so to protect herself from it happening again. How do you not see that?”

  When Mrs. Brennon put it that way things began to click into place for him, well at least some. The night she had a nightmare and the words she screamed when she attacked him earlier today.

  She was making a stand and refusing to be frightened anymore. By what he had no idea. Nor was he sure if the threat was still real around her or just an echo of her past.

  �
�She has her ghost just as you do. You fight to stay away from her but I know together is the only way you will work through them.”

  “I have no ghost,” Grimshaw said gruffly, “and I don’t know what you are inferring about working them out together.”

  “Oh, Sebastian, you know exactly what I mean,” Mrs. Brennon said with the familiarity of a household member who was more akin to family.

  She touched his cheek affectionately and for a second she saw the young rascal of a boy that used to torment these halls.

  “I’ll say goodnight now, Lord Grimshaw,” she said with a glisten to her eyes before turning to leave.

  Grimshaw sat down on the floor and poked at the food she had brought him. Mrs. Brennon had rather made him feel like a silly child explaining things out to him that she saw and he didn’t.

  Of course he knew he had a ghost. The memory of his wife, the pain of the loss still gripped him hard. The guilt of finding another one to put into his heart.

  She had been wrong to suppose he wanted that to be Miss Jacobson, he was sure of it. Yes, Grimshaw did have feelings for her, but perhaps it was just the need to protect her from whatever fears had made her cover her physical body so.

  He may have not realized the burden she carried secretly but on some level he must have recognized it to feel so protective towards her.

  Protective was not the same as infatuation, however. She was nothing to him but an employee. Even if he did have such feelings, which he certainly did not, he would not subject his girls to that sort of gossip.

  They had already had enough hardship in life. To enter their young lady years with the talk that their governess had married their father was far too much than they should have to bear.

  No, he would find a mother for them, not out of desire to find love, but necessity to take care of them and see them right in the world.

  His heart was too full with Ann to ever make room for another. He would not disgrace her memory like that.

  Though Hannah was mortified by her actions, she was also grateful that the earl had been at her side.

  She was more irritated at herself than anything else. In an attempt to be brave and stand up for herself she had instead wilted into a puddle.